Mom in France

A Note to Mom in France Readers

Hi Everybody:

I want to let you know that I decided to accept advertising on Mom In France.  I'm just putting my toes in the water to begin with and will not be blanketing my site with flashing banners. 

Because Mom in France is really a niche blog and is a way for me to share my experiences and provide resources and information to others who are in the same boat or considering climbing aboard I will only accept advertising that is relevant to that purpose.  To start with, I'm accepting text links, sponsored posts and will do some affiliate marketing via Amazon.

If you have a service that you think would fit please send me an email. 

If you have, at any time, any feedback or comments please email me as well.

Thanks for your support!

Karin.

SOS Help Book Sale 23 October

For those of you in Paris, SOS Help, an organization that provides and English-speaking crisis hotline, is holding a fund-raising book sale on the 23 October. 

Books for sale are used English-language books across all genres. 1 euro for paperbacks and 2 euros for hardbacks.

Details:

October 23rd, 12-4pm
Orrick Law Offices
31 avenue Pierre 1ers de Serbie, 75016 Paris

Getting Ready for Winter

 

Our Indian Summer continues and I'm holding my breath a little because October usually means torrential rains.  We're in a race to if our exterior will be finished before the first big storm comes that finally turns summer into fall.

Last week the insulation was delivered - 6 weeks after we moved in. This was only slightly late and right away they started installing it.  Early on in the demolition we discovered that the insulation would have to be redone completely both in the roof and the walls.  Since our house is tiny, we decided to take the bad news as an opportunity and insulate from the outside using cork insulation - all natural, renewable and no toxic fumes.  The only downside is that it's almost 5 inches thick.  Which would have made it a no-go if we had to put it on the inside.  As it turns out, by ripping out the old insulation and wall board we gained a lot of space inside by just plastering the walls.

Lesson learned though - no interior insulation (except in the floors) means lousy acoustics.  Our tiny house echoes with noisy kids.  I'm shopping for rugs and other soft furnishing to eat some of the noise.

Once they finish glueing the cork to the existing walls, they will put a wire frame - I imagine it like chicken wire - then plaster stucco on top.  The roof insulation is made of wood fiber and looks like the usual pink wooly insulation except that its wood colored.   

 

Expat Women: Confessions

 

In a couple of weeks it will be 9 years since I first arrived in France.  As Fall arrives here with it's cooler temperatures and back-to-school mentality I easily reminisce about those early months.  In some ways, every fall feels like that first year - there's something about the smell of the air and the light that remind me of that tumultuous period of my life when I left my urban single-girl life behind and landed in France to move in with my then-boyfriend now husband.

Becoming an expat is a different experience for everybody.  For me, becoming an expat was part of committing to my relationship and starting a new life with someone.  I was doing a lot at once!  Like most major life changes, it was hard.  In moving to France, I really had no idea what I was getting myself into or how I would be changed.  I'm glad, too, because if I'd known it would take me 18 months to feel even remotely like myself then I would never have done it.  And I don't regret it.  At all.  I love where I live, my family, my community. It just took me awhile to get there.

Earlier this spring with Expat Women: Confessions came out and the offered bloggers to review with an advance copy I took the offer.  It took me only until now to write about because I find it really hard to talk about those first days with any coherency.  My brain falls back into the chaos that was that time. It was as if I was an adolescent all over again (and not in a good way).  The awkwardness, always saying the wrong thing, dressed not quite right, lost in the cultural cues and just sheer exhaustion of trying to take it all in and rebuild my identity (Am I American?  An Expat?  Will I ever be "French" enough?).  Over time, I did sort it out.  But some days were rough going.

I'm very glad that there are others that can write about the expat experience with fluency and authority.  I'll admit that at first I was put off by the Question/Answer nature of the book, but in the end I found it easy and interesting to read and the authors are so empathetic and practical that if you ever find yourself an expat, then I would definitely read this book. I wish I had this book when I was first an expat but even after several years the advice and more importantly the supportive voice of the book was encouraging, even now.  Oh yeah - now I remember why I did it.  Because living abroad, despite the challenges, has made my life more rich and interesting.

 

 

Fall is in the Air!

Folks have been posting from various nothern hemisphere climes that they "smell fall."  On the Riviera fall comes late for being so far north, something that continually suprises me.  Temperatures are still in the high 70s during the day and it has hardly rained since late July. 

Yesterday, though, it did rain.  Enough for an early morning scramble in the garden to pick up all the chair cushions and close the top on the 2CV (dang!).  The afternoon was more clear and we decided to take the kids for a walk to the Village (Little Guy: "chocolat chaud! chocolat chaud!")

Boo wanted to run!

We ate late-season blackberries growing on the side of the road, chatted with acquaintances as they drove by, walked all the way down to the village, visited an art exhibit, the empty church and found ourselves on the central sqaure for the second time that day.  It was early evening, around 6:30pm, and the post-rain air was cooler.  A wind was coming up as the light waned and I noticed that people were wearing jeans or long-sleeved shirts.  Gone were the skimpy, sunlight exposing, clothes of only a week ago. I promised a treat and though we didn't have hot chocolate, I bought an orange juice to share and a glass of beer for me.  However, the beer needed something.  A good, hot plate of fries.  Not exactly Riviera but so what?  The evening called for it.

 
 
  

 

 

In the News in France: Galliano and the "Coke Tax"

So Galliano was convicted yesterday of officially, legally, being an A-hole and anti-semite after his drunken rage and arrest 6 months ago that cost him at least his job if not career and reputation.  However, it seems the court took pity on him and only fined him 6,000 eur (8340 usd) and no prison time.  I'm sure the fashion of french prisoners would improve if he were on site!  However, I guess they figured that he had suffered enough and had tried to make some kind of social amends by spending two months in rehab.  He said that he was intoxicated with alcohol, valium and sleeping pills the night of his arrest and didn't even remember his rant which was caught on camera. From a news coverage standpoint I saw more comment in the US press than in France though today his confreres are rallying to him with folks coming out of the woodwork to give comments and wish him well.

In other news, last month the Prime Minister announced a new tax on sugary, non-alcoholic drinks (aka soda) as part of the government's "austerity measures" and as a way to fund a public health campaign against rising obesity (yes, the scourge is here too).  From Atlanta, Coca-cola responded that they would have to "re-examine" their upcoming investments in France, namely a major retrofit of a factory in the southern part of the country the employs 100s of people.  There was a major outcry from unions and the government and press alike.  Why?  Because the tax in question is only .01 euro cent per cannette.  Hardly enough to harm Coca-cola's business or the industry in general.  The fun, apparently, will be just enough to print up some posters and other campaign materials encouraging people to eat smart.  And I wonder - what percentage of a 1 euro can of Coke is the marketing budget if it's manufacturer?  WAY more than 1 cent, I'm sure.  Which seems to me that the whole thing is a bit lame - the government will not raise enough money from the tax to have any real impact and they just annoy a major employer.  If they REALLY want to be serious about combating obesity then my advice is to take on the major grocery chains who sell all that junk.  But no - Carrefour is probably untouchable in France.

So, what else is new?

 

The First Days at Tiny House

Tiny House is looking great but is definitely still a work in progress!  I unpacked about half the kitchen and that was about it while we wait for our cabinetry to be installed.  In the meantime, here are a few first pictures to give you an idea of what it looks like.

Fancy Restaurants with Kids

Occassionally I get asked by foreigners planning a Franch vacation if the restaurants are kid-friendly.  I always say yes - we often eat out with our kids.   However, on our last visit to the U.S., I realize that people perhaps have something else in mind.  High-chairs and booster seats.  Crayons and kid menus.  Perhaps a "family section."  Diaper changing station in the bathroom. 

If that's what's expected then half the time there will be disappoinment.  However, I find that restaurants are always accommodating. Where there are no high chairs, they stack two to make a higher seat.  Many restaurants have diaper changing stations, especially in tourist areas.  Child menus (hamburger, chicken nuggets) are rampant. We often eat out at kid-friendly places but sometimes I want something different besides pasta or pizza.

Recently I had Boo for the day and decided to treat ourselves to a quiet and delicious lunch.  I picked  Restaurant Bleu Lavande outside Valbonne.  I had never eaten there and wanted to try something new.  It seemed interesting because it is a restaurant specializing in seafood and they have a philosophy of buying organically farmed fish locally from a fishery in Cannes and where possible use organic ingredients and provide organic wines.

This was not a "kid-friendly" restaurant.  No child menu.  No high chairs. We made do with the booster from the car and Boo ate just like everybody else - the lunch menu of filet de Dorade and a dessert of sorbet.  He drank a limonade and charmed the retirees who had come to dine.  We talked of fire trucks and our upcoming vacation.  He had one small toy that kept him (mostly) occupied in between courses. I was able to enjoy a 3-course lunch and a glass of Reisling with relish - something I rarely even get at home much less in a restaurant.

Do you take your kids to restaurants?  Any specific kinds or advice?

Are We There Yet?

My bed has been in storage since April 29th.  Since then I have slept in 6 places, none of them really well.  Almost all of those nights I go to sleep thinking about that day's progress and setbacks.

People ask us, "When will it be finished?" To which we reply, "It depends on what you mean by 'finished'." 

We move in on Friday.  When I was there over the weekend there was only a bathtub but no sink, toilets, faucets or hot water heater (though they are all sitting around in boxes).  There is no flooring upstairs. There are no light fixtures or outlets. The tile on the stairs is halfway done.  My sleepless nights, I think, are due to the fact that there's nothing I can do now but wait a few more days.  Our team (including E, who is painting, painting painting) is working very hard.

Once we move, it will be a bit like posh camping. Dusty.  With a lot of work still going on, both inside and outside where they will begin to insulate, re-roof, install skylights and air conditioning.  It will be busy.

In the meantime, the most complete thing is the kitchen.  I'm so excited and for this alone I can't wait to move in.  We are still waiting for the worktop but we have a temporary one in place so the kitchen is ready to go when we arrive. We worked hard designing it and it really turned out just as I wanted and imagined it.  My favorite features are the hidden appliances (fridge, dishwasher and microwave) and the pull out storage to the left of the oven.

 

 

Summer Reflection

It’s summer vacation time and that means that many of us expats are headed “home.”  While some of us are traveling in style, the moms among us are trading advice on how to survive a long-haul journey with young children in tow. Once on the other continent a whirlwind of visits, cultural overload and jetlag combine in a kind of other-planet dissonance that is both strange and fundamentally familiar. 

During my trip I often encounter many questions about what it’s like to be back. 

“How does it feel to be back?”

“What’s the hardest part about coming back?”

“What do you miss most about not living in the US?”

“Does the US seem different from the outside?”

I get asked these questions multiple times on every trip, and I never seem to have a satisfactory answer.  I never think about it in advance and unable to parse through all the various feelings, impressions, opinions, I always end up saying something lame like “fine” or “the traffic” or “chocolate milkshakes”.

After almost 9 years of living in France and making the trip at least once a year, I realize that every trip teaches me something.  And for this I’m grateful to my expat life.  Last year, I remember vividly being so inspired by how dynamic the young culture seemed to be.  Everybody seemed to be embarking on creative, entrepreneurial endeavors.  From my own brother’s sustaining podcast to restaurateurs and independent clothing designers there seemed to be such a rush creativity that seemed new and definitely not something that I had experienced in France. 

This past visit was less inspiring but what the visit taught me was that each visit is more about my state of mind than the place I’m in.  Last year I was so inspired because I was going through a similar process in my own life and was so open to see what other people were doing and sought out those kind of experiences.  This year, engulfed as we are in our home renovation, I’m less open and grasping on to things that reminded me of “home.”  I wasn’t homesick (whatever that means to me now) but I had this longing of keeping things some how “normal” and that meant how we live our life in France. 

Normally, I LOVE treating myself to all the American food I don’t eat in France.  I certainly enjoyed my share of cheeseburgers and I let my kids gorge on grilled-cheese sandwiches, chocolate chip cookies and cheerios and all sorts of not good for you but we’re on vacation type of treats and snacks.  Just below the surface though I missed my daily food types was happy to drink some French wine or buy imported cheese from Whole Foods. 

Twice service people learned that we live in France and wanted to hear Boo speak French.  He was justifiably reticent but I obliged those annoying people. Look!  We live in France! My kid speaks French!  It was a moment of proof in a mundane situation.  Otherwise, I had to work hard to purge French from my everyday speech with the kids.  I want them to speak English smoothly and that also meant cleaning up any French inflection in my English or speaking French to them directly.  It worked.  Boo came away with a smoother voice (though he still has an accent) and Little Guy, who is just learning to talk, added a lot of English words before he has learned the French equivalents.  

I don’t mean to give you the sense that I didn’t enjoy my time in the US or that I was secretly wishing I was in France – not true!   I loved every minute I spent with my family and friends and this year was special since we discovered Chicago and Madison, Wisconsin.  We left grateful for the love and friendship we felt.

I emerged the airport terminal in Nice blinking in the bright sun.  After a baby-harrowing journey I nearly cried at the beauty of the mountains, the sky and sea and reminded myself that I was home.